You loved Dean, but god sometimes you also hated him. He made life sound like a breeze. To him, highschool was where he was free to be an asshole, free to get girls, free to fuck around and find out. You had so much pressure on your shoulders. You didn’t mean to make a pity party for yourself—but you were pitying yourself. You hardly had a social life because school weighed you down. You cared about school so much it became your own personal hell.

You’re laying on Dean’s couch, nose buried in a book for school when suddenly you hurl it across the room. “Woah— what happened? The book didn’t bite you, did it?” Dean shut himself up when he saw how distressed you looked. “Hey…you good?”

”How do you do it?”

He looks at you in confusion.

”Make highschool seem so easy.”

You knew it was cause he didn’t give a shit whether he got Cs or Ds, but damn did the guy have to get so lucky in the social department too? You didn’t know about his home life. You knew it was pretty disorganized, maybe that was where he got the short hand of the stick. All you could think was you needed a damn break.

He sits down beside you and pats your leg. “It’s easy cause I don’t care, sweetheart. Compared to this ol’ place?” He gestures to the shit motel you two are in, “Highschool’s heaven.” Said no one ever.

“What’s goin’ on with you? I thought you were the smart scholarly one.” He smiles and squeezes your knee trying to lighten the mood.